Thousand yard Stare
by Spider-Midget
Summary: James is a deaf fifteen year old who gets sent to Camp Green lake after being caught with pot. So far, it doesn't look so bad. A little crowded, maybe, and it turns out there's no green, or lake at Camp Green lake. But it's better than juvey, right?
1. Guilty

With mounting disbelief, James watched the bus speed past yet another sign wishing them a safe journey. How many was that, then? He'd lost count. He gazed up the aisle, and past the driver, to the seemingly endless expanse of empty road that disappeared into the horizon, and wondered: where were they?

He still couldn't believe it. Aside from his guard, and the man behind the wheel, James was the only other person on the bus. He wondered how many chose jail or juvey the camp. Then he wondered why.

The bus hit a bump, and James lurched out of his seat, startled. When he composed himself, he noticed the armed guard sitting across from him watching him out of the corner of his eye. The man looked tall and strong, heavy, but not overweight. So far, James hadn't seen him loosen his grip on his firearm once, though he didn't appear to be weary of James at all. In fact, he didn't seem interested in him at all.

About an hour into the drive, James mustered up enough courage to ask whether or not they were almost there. A withering stare was his answer, and James began to wonder if perhaps the man hadn't heard him clearly, or at all. They were on a moving bus, after all. "I said, are we almost there?"

Again, the man stared, only this look was different than the one before. This one was curious, probing, and maybe even a little bit startled.

'OK,' James mouthed rather bitingly. If the guard took offense to his attitude, he didn't notice. Blowing air out of the sides of his mouth, he turned to the window, and watched the road roll by.

In no time at all they were passing massive holes in the earth, in every which way imaginable. There didn't seem to be any reason or rhyme to them, they just were. James frowned thoughtfully, pressing his forehead against the glass. When the bus finally did stop, the guard grabbed him by the arm and yanked him up, guiding him down the aisle. He tiredly shuffled along, glad to be finally getting out of the handcuffs soon. His wrists were sweaty and raw, though there were no marks.

Boys of varying ages dotted the area. Some sat or stood on porches in the shade (the only shade there seemed to be, James noted); others were out under the merciless sun, watching him with dangerous eyes.

A few feet away there was a small, stout man with a mean looking face, boot, and a cowboy hat. He was unrestrainedly yelling at a group of boys, who flew to their feet and scattered like cockroaches. None of them looked like criminals.

The man saw them and walked over. One eye squinted shut, and he moved a toothpick around in his mouth. "Follow me," he said, simply walking off. Confused, James turned to his guard, who curtly ignored him and followed the man with the boots into an office.

The man walked around the desk and sat, motioning for James to sit. He did. The guard, however, stood for a moment or two before sitting himself. James looked around the office. It wasn't really small, but all the furniture and objects made it seem that way. The desk lamp and desk, as well as a few other objects, looked like they'd come from a courtroom. On the desk was an ashtray, littered with cigarette butts.

"So, got us another, have you?" he looked at a sheet of crumpled paper on a clipboard, lazily scanning it. "James Tanner. Fifteen. Says here you were caught with...drugs? Marijuana?" he looked up, tsking. "Kids these days..." he sighed, dropping the clipboard on the desk. "Well, James, this is Camp Green lake. My name is Mr. Sir-"

"Can you take the toothpick out of your mouth?" James interrupted. Mr. Sir stared at him keenly. "I'm deaf. I was supposed to have an interpreter, but-"

Mr. Sir looked livid. After several seconds, the toothpick cocked up beneath his top lip. He plucked it from his mouth, saying, "Interpreter? Ain't got one... So let me get this straight, you didn't hear a word I said on the walk over here?"

"No, sir."

He shot an irate glance at the guard, who raised both eyebrows and shrugged, still clinging to his firearm for dear life.

"Fully deaf, as in you cain't hear nothin'?"

"Almost. I can hear enough to read lips."

Mr. Sir regarded him suspiciously. "Good to know...Well, then, if'n you can read lips, I guess you won't be needing an interpreter after all?" James opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Sir talked over him. "Ok, well, here's a little recap of what ya missed. I'm Mr. Sir," he explained rudely and a little more dramatically than was necessary. Both index fingers pointed to the ground. "This is Camp Green lake. This isn't a spa get away. You made some choices in life that led up to you coming here, and now," a wicked smile appeared on his face, "it's time to pay your debt back to society."

"How do I do that, Mr. Sir?"

Mr. Sir smiled again. James saw that both he and the guard were chuckling. For some reason, it made him very uneasy. "You like diggin' holes, son?" James paused, concentrating hard on his face. "Diggin' holes, that's right."

"I guess so?" James offered dumbly, not knowing what else to say. He didn't see what digging holes had to do with returning debt to society, but how much worse could a camp be than juvey?

"Good, good..."


	2. Hole 1

No towers, gates, moats or guards. The whole concept seemed out of place for what was essentially a juvenile correctional facility, though he could see why none of those things were really necessary. None of the boys looked determined to turn tail and run, and why would they? Mr. Sir asked.

"We got the only water for miles," he explained.

James wondered if anyone ever had ran for it, and what happened to them. Mr. Sir seemed adamant that no one would come after them, or waste bullets, either. He couldn't believe staff had let someone get so far that they were unable to get back, and that they may have perished out under the broiling sun. A horrifying way to die, he thought.

"Hello!" said a second man cheerfully. He was very lanky and unusual in the way he dressed and carried himself. The white sunscreen on the nose, James decided with a snort, was just overkill. "I'm your counselor, Dr. Pendanski. Welcome to Camp Green lake."

"...Thanks," James said, guardedly.

Mr. Sir adjusted his pants and belt. "Deaf. Lip reader," he informed. Then, beneath his breath, working his lips awkwardly to disguise his words, he added, "watch out for that."

Dr. Pendanski blinked several times and pursed his lips. He carefully offered James a his hand, as though he might be very fragile. "It is very nice to meet you, James!"

James shook his hand and nodded slightly.

"Well," another calculating gaze, masked by politeness, "if you'll just follow me, I'll show you around."

Carrying some towels, a second jump suit, and some other items, James walked alongside Dr. Pendanski, who gave him a quick tour. "Showers, rec. room, mess hall. That's pretty much it." He paused, a hand going up under his hat to scratch at his head. "Oh! And there's the Warden's cabin. Thee number one rule here at Camp Green lake: do not upset the warden. Now, I know you've made some bad choices, and now because of those choices society looks down on you..." Dr. Pendanski moved in, and set a very awkward hand on his shoulder. Even more awkward was the intense eye contact. "But now, you're being given a chance to start over, with a clean slate. I believe in you, James. You can turn your life around."

"...Ok," said James.

Dr. Pendanski grinned. "Great! Now, I'll show you to your tent. Do you know what the D stands for?"

James thought hard. "Dig?" he said shyly.

Dr. Pendanski laughed like he hadn't laughed in a long while, wiping tears from his eyes and shaking his head. "No, not 'dig.' D stands for Diligence. Direction. Desire. De-termination. These things will help you reshape your life, so that when you leave here, you'll be ready to integrate back into society more easily."

There were three boys already inside, mid-conversation, when they entered the tent. Immediately, James was hit with a smell that resembled old gym socks and wet dog.

"Boys? This is the newest edition to our group. His name is James." The three of them silently looked at them both. One, a heavyset black boy, raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Well, come on. Be a little more friendly, will you?"

"Friendly? We don't do friendly," said a very tall, skinny boy with thick glasses that looked like they hadn't been cleaned once in his entire life.

James was beginning to feel uncomfortable, standing there with his belongings, a stranger in the place he was supposed to be living for the long months ahead.

"Nonsense. This is Rex, Alan, and Theodore."

"My name isn't Rex, it's X-Ray. And they aren't Alan or Theodore."

Dr. Pendanski rolled his eyes. "Ok, X-Ray. Zigzag. ... Armpit." He made a face, then said to James, "they all like to call each other by nick names, but I prefer to call them by the names their mothers gave them."

"Tch, man, we ain't the only ones with nicknames," Armpit revealed.

"They call me 'Mom." He said this somewhat proudly, smiling bashfully.

"That's right," X-Ray said.

"I don't have a nickname," James said softly. "Just James."

"Yo, you don't get a nickname until you been here for a while. Proved yourself, you know?" by now, X-Ray was in his face. He could see the scratch marks on the lenses, and the film of dirt covering them. He wondered how the kid saw at all. When James didn't answer, he raised his voice (James could tell by the way his mouth moved, more expressively) "You understand?"

Dr. Pendanski reeled X-Ray back by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ah, I think he understands. By the way, James is deaf, so when you're talking to him, if you could just look right at him, that would help him out a lot and I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"You're deaf?" said Zigzag. He had something sticking out of his mouth, too. Looked like a sucker, but he couldn't tell. Two other boys walked up to the group just as he answered.

"What, like, you can't hear nothin'?" asked Armpit.

"Yeah."

A Mexican boy (he wasn't really sure, but he looked Mexican) exclaimed, "what? Deaf? You're deaf?"

"I know some sign language," said Zigzag, with a strange, crazed sort of look in his eyes. He began to go through the manual alphabet, never once smiling or blinking or showing any type of emotion at all. The other boys laughed and egged him on, but James just smiled shyly. "We learned it in school," he offered at the end, finally smiling just a little.

"Hey, I know sign language, too," said the Mexican-looking boy again. He flashed the middle finger, and the group howled with laughter, all except for Dr. Pendanski.

"All right, all right!" he hollered, brandishing his clipboard like a weapon. "Very funny, Jose... Hm, what else? What else, what else, what else? Oh, where's Zero?" Most of them shrugged in response. "Oh, well. James, there's another boy in this group. He's teeny, you can't miss him." he shot a quick glance at his watch. "Op! Look at the time. I've got to be running. Zigzag? I want you to be James' mentor."

"Haa!" several boys pointed and laughed in chorus. Zigzag only stared.

"You hear me? You watch out for him."

As Dr. Pendanski left the tent, all eyes stopped on James. He stood awkwardly, arms straining to hold his things. "So, uh, where do I put my things?"

Someone said, "over there," but he didn't actually see it. Instead, he saw them point to a cot far in the corner, against the wall of the tent. Great, he thought, I'll freeze all night. He went and put his things down. When he turned around again, everyone was gone.

James sighed and hung his head. "Good first impression," he said to himself.

**/ / /**

When morning rolled around, James was nowhere to be found. Mr. Sir paced like a wild lion, scanning row after row of yawning, blurry-eyed faces, shovels at the ready. "Where is Tanner?"

"Tanner?" Pendanski asked.

Mr. Sir's gaze became murderous. "The new one."

"Oh! Him, he's—" Pendanski's calmly surveyed the crowd. And then again, a little more urgently. "Well, he's—he's—Where is James?"

A hush fell across the group. Finally, someone spoke up. "Uhh, I don't think he woke up?" they offered.

"Did any of you actually wake him?" Pendanski asked sternly. Several shrugging shoulders and incoherent mumbling replied him. "Zigzag!"

"I forgot!" Zigzag's voice insisted. "Honest."

"Damnit," Mr. Sir swore, kicking up dust. "Someone go wake him up." When no one made a move to leave, he practically growled. "Pendanski! Go get your boy! And you!" Mr. Sir dropped his voice threateningly. "Maybe I'll just forget to fill your canteen today."

Pendanski looked like he could have jumped out of his skin. He rushed back to D tent, throwing open the flap. It was still very early morning; there was no sun to shine in on the boys. He flew over to James' cot and shook him awake.

"What?" James asked, signing as he spoke. He struggled to keep his eyes open. "What's wrong? Mom?"

"Time to get up," Pendanski informed, hurriedly forcing him to sit up and tossing a jumpsuit at him. "Get dressed, hurry up."

Pendanski pushed him out of the tent, and lead him by the wrist over to Mr. Sir, who looked far too angry for how early it was. He was handed a shovel, and then steered over to some sort of set up for food. No hotplates, he noted grimly. No eggs or bacon, either. What awaited him was an enigma.

"What is it?" he asked, cautiously, but Dr. Pendanski didn't have time for questions, and slapped a syrupy, gross tortilla into his hand, then pointed for him to go find somewhere to dig. As he passed Mr. Sir, he said, "sorry I overslept."

How could this even be considered morning? He wondered. It was still practically night.

"Not entirely your fault. Someone in your tent was supposed to wake you, but obviously they didn't get the memo. I don't want it happening again." Piercing blue eyes locked onto Dr. Pendanski. "Got your shovel already? Good. Go on, then, start digging, before the sun comes up. Remember, as deep and as wide as your shovel. And keep an eye out for those damn lizards."

**/ / / **

****

Maybe juvey wasn't such a bad choice, after all. He'd known a few people who'd been, and warned him of certain things; told him how life worked behind bars and glass. He didn't recall anyone ever mentioning digging a hole to China, though. Or digging at all.

The other boys in his group, working on their own holes around him, kept looking over. Some snickered from time to time, others just shook their heads or glared, as if he had overslept purposefully. There was someone he hadn't seen yet, though, and that was the one they called Zero. He made count of the holes around him, and narrowed Zero's down to two. The kid never came up for air, though, by the looks of it. Not that he was watching that intently. He shook his head. He needed to focus.

When he had dug enough to comfortably crouch in his hole, he witnessed several people beginning to throw their shovels out of their holes, and crawl out. Relieved to be finished, he climbed out, as well, just as a big white truck was approaching. His first thought was that they would be driven back to camp. His second thought was that that would be impossible, as there simply wasn't enough room for all of them.

"Water's here," he saw someone say. They all collected their canteens and lined up. James walked to the back of the line. Finally, he saw the mysterious boy named Zero. Pendanski was right, he decided. Zero was tiny, and he looked young, younger than anyone else in group D. What could a kid that young-looking have done to be sent to a place like this? he wondered.

The line kept moving, slowly but surely. Suddenly, something horrible happened. When Zigzag approached to have his canteen filled, Mr. Sir stared straight through him, as though he were a ghost. James felt his stomach drop to his knees. It was Zero's turn next, and then his.

"You thirsty, Mr. Tanner?" Mr. Sir asked him.

He wet his lips. "Yes, Mr. Sir." He held out his canteen.

"Let's see how much you've got done so far, hm?" Mr. Sir glossed over the canteen completely and began a slow, lazy walk to James' hole. He did not look happy when he looked down into it. "Better pick up the pace, if you wanna get back in time to get any sleep."

James looked at his hole with disappointment. Now that he was out, he could see clearly that everyone elses was significantly deeper than his. He reasoned that they had been here longer, so it was only natural. Still, it was a tough blow to take.

"I'll do better," he said quietly.

Mr. Sir laughed. "I sure hope so, for your sake! Now, about that water..." he extended his hand, and James gave him the canteen, which he took his time in filling. He also received a small lunch, which he was thankful for. He hadn't seen anyone else receive one, and had begun to grow worried.

Without so much as a word, he climbed into the white truck and drove off, throwing dust into the air.

James returned to his hole, to eat his lunch and rehydrate. Then, he had an idea. It was crazy, but maybe it would help him move up on the totem pole. He found himself standing over Zigzag, holding his canteen like a dork. "Uh, hey, Zigzag? You can have some of my water, if you want."

ZigZag looked up, bewildered. It looked like he was actually about to reach out for it, too, when X-Ray said, "hey, he doesn't want any of your water, man. Go finish your hole, newbie."

Everything fell silent. A gust of wind whipped sand over Zigzag's hole, and he squinted to avoid getting any in his eyes. They were both frozen, looking at one another. Zigzag blinked several times and looked down, guiltily beginning to finish digging, and ignore James, who stood around for another minute, looking blankly at X-Ray.

He walked back to his own hole and sat, unpackaging his lunch and guzzling some water down. He sat and ate alone for a while, but eventually, he noticed a shadow looming over him. Oddly enough, though, he didn't recognize the boy at all, but knew his name.

"You're gonna wanna save that," said Zero, sitting down beside him. "The longer you take, the more you're gonna need it."

"...Thanks," said James, eying him curiously. "I'm not very good at this."

Zero shrugged. "I just finished."

"What?" he looked over his shoulder. "How?"

Another shrug. "I'm fast."

"Damn, I guess so..."

Zero drew his knees to his chest, checking out James' own hole. "You talk strange."

"Thanks," James said without so much as batting an eye.

He didn't actually see Zero say it, on account of him lowering his head (probably in shame), but he knew what had been uttered.

He couldn't help but smile. "It's cool. I talk weird because I'm deaf."

"Oh." Computing, computing. "So, how does that work?"

James shrugged briefly and bit into an apple. "I got real sick when I was three, went almost completely deaf. I wear hearing aids that help me read lips."

"That's cool. Can I see?

No one had ever said that before. He tilted his head and brushed the hair aside.

"They're blue. Cool."

"I guess so."

Zero quieted after that, looking down at his feet or hands, or James' hole. He seemed to have run out of things to say.

"So, Zigzag's supposed to be my mentor," he offered, attempting to get the ball rolling again.

Zero smirked. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah." The others were huddled in their own group, relaxing and chatting amongst themselves. "I don't think they like me very much."

"They're not as bad as they seem."

He knew it was supposed to make him feel better, but it didn't. "Yeah, maybe, but I think I got you guys in trouble."

"Not really." He paused, gazing out into the orange landscape for a moment. "Just a little. But it's Zigzag's fault, he didn't get you up. I would've, you know, if I'd known."

"It's ok."

"Well..." Zero exhaled sharply and dusted his hands on his knees. "You better get back to work. Good luck."

He watched Zero walk away. He bent down and picked up his shovel, and did the strangest thing. He spit into the hole, then began dragging his shovel back to the camp. James looked on, awestruck and jealous. He looked down into his own hole tiredly. Suddenly, it felt a million times hotter than it had before. The apple he had been eating was already warm and browning. Scowling, he tossed it away, and picked up his shovel.


	3. Hole 2

The first hole was the hardest. Except for the second hole, that was.

James wasn't one to cry often, but he had, off and on working on his second hole. Last summer, he began running with his father, and lifting weights to build muscle. He remembered waking up one morning so sore and hunched over, he could barely walk. When Zigzag shook him awake in the morning, he nearly cried again. Not only did his arms and legs feel like blocks of lead, and his muscles ache severely, he could feel a sinus headache coming on from the cold at night.

He wasn't sure how, but he made it on time for a brief visual headcount, scarfed down that horrible sugary, slimy tortilla shell, and hobbled off to find a hole to dig and maybe even bury himself in.

This time, it was Mr. Pendanski driving the water truck. This time, Zigzag's canteen was filled without hesitation. Things seemed calmer than yesterday, and no one appeared to be giving him the evil eye anymore. His headache was abating, too. Now, if only he could finish his hole on time. He hadn't even laid eyes on the rec room.

He missed his parents, and his little sister. He wondered what his mother was telling friends and family about him. It was sort of a silly thing to be thinking about, but he missed his friends online, and their group video chats. He was getting tired of doing all the work to make communication work; his jaw was sore from all the talking. On one hand, he knew he wasn't sent here to be treated like royalty, but on the other, he was seriously surprised they didn't have an interpreter on hand. He'd have to speak to the warden about that.

Several times, he nearly quit and climbed out of his hole. Too bad, he thought. They couldn't expect him to come in off the streets and dig such a giant hole like it was nothing. He never went through with it, though, for in the back of his mind he, feared they would make him dig two holes next time.

About an hour after the water truck left, Zero climbed out his hole, spit in it, then dragged his shovel back to camp. One by one, the others followed, until James was alone.

It was dark when he was finally through. He walked back to camp carefully, afraid of falling into someone else's hole, and even more afraid that the hole would be filled with rattlesnakes. Yellow spotted lizards? He still wasn't too sure about them, since he hadn't actually seen one.

Unfortunately for him, the kitchen closed twenty minutes before he limped in. He thought about checking out the rec. room, but didn't think he could make it up the stairs. Instead, he decided to have a shower. Maybe the water would help with the excruciating pain throughout his whole body.

He popped his hearing aids off and hopped in.

From afar, the stalls hasn't looked so bad. Up close, they looked like they'd been sitting there for a hundred years. The wood was dry and cracked from the sun, and the "privacy fence" only went up to his navel. Even in real summer camp, they'd had real showers, indoors. He wondered if Mr. Sir and Dr. Pendanski used these showers. Probably not, considering the water didn't even go above 'Arctic,' and he didn't even have a chance to become hypothermic, because the water shut off before he was even finished!

Irritated and freezing, he toweled off, ran back to tent and crawled into bed. No sooner had he put his hearing aids away and pulled the sheet up to his chin, the tent flap opened.

"I don't care, man. The kid is weird. Who puts mustard on beans?" Squid

was saying.

"How do you know those were beans?" inquired Magnet. "That could be just about anything."

Armpit lit the lamp above his bed and shrugged, pulling the covers back on his cot. "Well, they sure give me gas like beans."

"Hey, guys!" X-Ray pointed at James, who pretended to be asleep. "Look, it's that kid."

"You know," Squid began thoughtfully, "pretending to be deaf, that's pretty smart."

"How?" Magnet asked.

"Well, you could sit around people when they were having a private conversation."

Magnet looked shocked. "Or listen to them talk about you while you pretend to sleep. Dude! He could've been eavesdropping the entire time! What do we do?"

"He's not eavesdropping," announced Zero, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "He's really deaf."

"Prove it," said Zigzag.

"How?"

"Go yell in his face or something," said Squid.

"What? No!"

"Fine, I'll do it."

Zigzag nudged Zero out of the way and approached James' cot cautiously. Behind him, the others watched tensely. He looked over his shoulder, as if checking to see if they were all still on board, and then snapped his fingers next to James' head.

"Nothing," he reported, astonished.

"Do it louder."

He snapped again, closer, and louder. Still nothing.

"Clap," Magnet suggested. "They'll freak 'em out, if he is pretending."

"I don't know..."

"Just do it!"

Suppressing an irritated huff, Zigzag hesitated briefly, preparing himself. When James' eyes didn't fly open, and he didn't jump out of the bed and punch him in the nose, he was surprised. He bent down a little more carelessly than before and shouted at him. "I think he really is deaf," he reported. "Man. No wonder he overslept."

"I told you!" exclaimed Zero.

"Man, shut up," grumbled Armpit.

Magnet shrugged, and then crawled into his own cot, on his back, fingers laced behind his head. "No me lo puedo creer."

"Yeah, yo me no pueblo creer you too," X-Ray mumbled, throwing a towel at him.

Just then, Dr. Pendanski appeared. "Lights out, campers!"

Everybody groaned and went to their own cot.

"How did James do today?" he asked casually.

"Uh, he did ok," replied Magnet.

"Good to hear. You all get some rest, now, tomorrow's a busy day."

"Right, tomorrows Saturday. We get to sleep in and play video games, right?"

Dr. Pendanski smiled minutely, and then reached for the lamp. "You can do all that in your dreams, Ricky. Goodnight."

A chorus of "night, Mom," followed him as he exited D-ten for the night.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm not the best at getting my ideas down on paper, so I'm going to look for a beta reader tonight. Not so much the technical part of my writing, but more of the overall plot and what would look better where. If you want to give it a try just message me. <strong>


	4. 1 month down, eternity to go

If he'd done his math correctly, he'd been there now about a month. A whole month of struggling to fit in, adjusting to a practically nonexistent sleep schedule, food better suited to pigs, and rewiring his brain to accept (and not hope for) any other type of weather beside sickeningly hot and below-zero cold.

Sometimes Zero talked to him, but mostly just when the water truck pulled up, and before heading back to camp for the evening. No one else had bothered, yet. Not unless they were relaying a message from a staff member. Once or twice Zigzag looked like he might say something, but a look from X-Ray stopped him in his tracks. But whenever Dr. Pendanski would show up, Zigzag would put on a fake smile and say only that things were going good. James would just nod and agree. After all the excuses as to why he had no interpreter, when they were required by law to grant him one, he doubted Pendanski (or anyone, for that matter) really cared how he was doing.

James broke away from his thoughts for a moment. He stopped wearing his hearing aids when he dug, for fear of losing them or having the battery melt, so he sometimes got lost in his own little world and forgot about everyone around him. He climbed out of his hole to check everyone's progress, except when he looked around, he saw that there were two people left beside him, and that someone-it looked like Squid-was halfway back to camp.

On the bright side, he was getting faster. The sun was still up and he was half-way done. Maybe in another month, he could work toward being second-to-last to finish.

He sighed and did the only thing he could do: swear, and finish digging.

Half an hour later James struggled out of his hole. He collected his canteen and shovel, spared what little saliva he could to spit, and turned, surprised to still see someone walking around the holes back to camp. He draped his canteen around his neck and started to run, hoping to catch up with them. He was excited to tell them he'd finished his hole. Maybe that would earn him some sort of respect.

"Hey!" he called out, realizing he was still far behind. "Hey!"

The wind picked up and started blowing sand sideways; he squinted his eyes and shielded them as the boy turned around. It was Zigzag, hand up to his face and squinting back. He hesitantly brought down his hand when the wind died down, and instead of turning away, waited. James took that as an invitation, and hurried to meet up with him.

"I finished," he said proudly.

"Yeah," Zigzag said inattentively, looking troubled.

Encouraged by a response, James kept talking. "And only a little after you. Not bad."

They walked side by side, Zigzag with his shovel over one shoulder.

"Yeah, I finished my hole an hour ago," Zigzag revealed.

"_What?_"

"Yeah..."

James stopped dead in his tracks. "So, why are you just now walking back?"

Zigzag stopped, too, and turned. "Waiting. For you."

"Why?" James asked, feeling fearful. Zigzag didn't look dangerous, but he didn't look...normal... either.

"Wanted to say sorry for giving you a hard time." He lowered his gaze. "I didn't wake you on purpose. We thought it was funny, but we didn't mean anything by it. We were just screwing around. You know, messing with the new kid. Not 'cause you're..."

James frowned, staring intently at Zigzag's mouth. He shook his head, indicating that he wasn't understanding everything said. "Slow down."

Zigzag sighed and started to look really frustrated. "Look." he put his hand on his chest and moved it in a circle. "Ok?"

A smile crept on Jame's face. "'Sorry'?" he said. Zigzag nodded. James shook his head and laughed. "You signed 'please,' but I got it. This is 'sorry.'" Zigzag copied as he made a fist in the middle of his chest and moved it in a small circle.

Zigzag nodded approvingly. "Cool. What about 'thanks'?"

James showed him several other signs as they neared camp. Zigzag had a good memory, and to his surprise, seemed genuinely interested. By the time they made it to the mess hall steps, Zigzag knew how to sign 'thank you,' 'please' 'sorry,' and 'mustache.' ("Because mustaches are cool.")

"Wait-" he said, and grabbed Zigzag's arm. "Is everything cool now?" Zigzag stared at him vacantly. "With X-Ray?"

"Ohh." He furrowed his brow. "Uh, yeah, I think so."

"I hope so." He was getting tired of having his dinner, however unappetizing it was, eaten by everyone else.

He followed Zigzag up the stairs and into the mess hall, where the heat got hotter and the smell got worse. Too many bodies in one place. He didn't see how anyone could ever get used to it, although just a month ago he never thought he could ever get used to digging that big of a hole, either. He got his tray and went to sit, wishing Zigzag came with him instead of trying to haggle his way into another piece of bread.

Everyone was staring at him, but no one said a thing. He blinked several times and turned his gaze down to his tray. Maybe Zigzag was wrong. He was picking at his food with his fork when Zigzag sat down next to him (with one slice of bread, James noted), and began eating. James raised an eyebrow, head still down and turned to Zigzag, who suddenly looked up from his food.

"Huh? Oh..." he looked at James. "Yeah, I told'm."

Squid winked. "Sorry, man, but we gotta be sure."

"Yeah..." X-Ray rubbed his hands together. "We had to make sure you were gonna make it, you know, before you became part of the group. And that you were really deaf, and not just trying to spy on us. You know, then go and tell tent F what we really think of them."

Looking around, everyone seemed to be grinning and chuckling. He wasn't sure, but it looked like someone called tent F a bunch of fu-

"I told you he was," it looked like Zero mumbled.

"Huh?" James said, confused. "Wait, I can't-understand you all!"

In between shoveling food into his mouth, Zigzag said, "oh yeah, he's not wearing his uh..." he motioned to his ear with his fork. "Those little...hearie-thingies."

"Hearing aids," Zero supplied.

"Yeah, those." He smacked his food obnoxiously and reached out to ruffle Zero's hair. "Thanks, Zero."

Everyone mumbled "sorry," and took turns speaking for the next few minutes. Then they seemed to forget.

"...We yelled in your face and clapped and stuff when you were sleeping," Squid revealed. He looked away and scratched his cheek. "Sorry."

James was still processing that when X-Ray started talking again.

"Take the last guy for example. Only lasted, what?" X-Ray looked around the table. "Two weeks?"

"More like a week and a half," Magnet corrected.

James asked, "what happened to him?"

X-Ray shrugged.

Armpit leaned in dramatically. "I heard his mom died, and he ran off to try to make it to her funeral. Don't last long out there without water..."

Magnet copied Armpit, only with a more exaggerated look on his face. "_I_ heard... Armpit makes up bogus stories to try and look cool. OW!"

"Shut up," Armpit grumbled, punching him in side.

True, he was missing a big portion of the conversation due to terrible lighting, people moving around, and not wearing his hearing aids—but in that moment he felt the most relaxed and accepted he had during his entire time at Camp Green lake. They talked some more, about this and that: mostly rumors started by other campers or staff, to keep them in line, but sometimes the conversation drifted to sports, or favorite foods, or even girls.

When the conversation began to die, and everyone was getting ready to shower or go to the rec. room, James asked, "so, does this mean I get a nickname?"

X-Ray grinned deviously and leaned down next to him. Suddenly, he slapped the fork right out of his hand. "_That_, ya still gotta earn. _Newbie_."

Everyone but him and Zero laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

It was evening, and everyone was lazing around the tent, unwinding and getting ready for bed. Magnet and Armpit were playing Go Fish, Zero was lying quietly on his cot staring at nothing, and Squid was just returning after a shower, wringing water out of his bandana. Several of the boys drew back and complained he was getting them wet.

"So, you want to know the real deal here at Camp Green Lake?" X-Ray asked him. He was sitting next to Zigzag, all three of them direly under the lamp.

James looked from James looked from Zigzag (who had a halo of frizzy hair around his head and an excited look on his face) to X-Ray, expecting to hear a tale about why there was no lake. The story he got was entirely different, and very unexpected. "Yeah?"

He began by comparing the camp to The Twilight Zone. He was bent down with his elbows on his knees; the light from the lamp shone off his extremely dirty glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. "While you're here, nothing else in this world exists, 'cept for you and those holes."

"It's true," Zigzag commented with a look of awe on his face.

"Mom? The other counselors? They don't care about you. They don't care about any of us, and whether you make it out of here or not? Doesn't bother them one bit."

"But Dr. Pendanski seems pretty-"

"He seems nice, but he's got a mean streak, and he's no different than the rest of them."

"If they're as bad as you say, why doesn't anyone tell the police?"

X-Ray looked grim. "If you make it outta here, you act like it never happened."

"But why?"

"You just do. No one wants to risk coming back."

"You could send out a letter. Anonymously."

James saw X-Ray and Zigzag's eyes shift away. He followed them.

"I said, they don't send no mail out here," Armpit repeated. "No mail goes out, none comes in. No telephone, neither, unless you sneak into the wardens cabin or Mr. Sir's office."

"And no one's dumb enough to do that," said Squid.

"Not even Zero," Magnet added.

James didn't like what Magnet said, and pretended not to see it.

"So this place pretty much just does whatever it wants? Wow. But, people don't...they don't actually die out there, do they?" When neither X-Ray nor Zigzag said anything, James felt his stomach drop. He looked around, but no one else said anything, either. "No way. You can't be serious? Holy shit."

"Even if this place gets closed down," Zigzag began to say, when X-Ray cut him off.

"-there's always gonna be another Camp Green Lake out there somewhere. And I don't know about you, but when I get out, I'm_ not_ coming back. This isn't no TV show."

"Amen to that," said Armpit.

"They say we're digging holes for character," Zigzag said, "but I don't buy that. I think we're looking for something."

"Me, too," said Squid.

"I don't. I think they just tell us that to mess with us. This place doesn't just try and break your spirit, it takes everything away from you, and you either submit like a good little criminal, or you get mad. And if you get mad, you cause trouble, and if you cause too much trouble..." both X-Ray's hands mimicked a small firework exploding. "You just vanish. And nobody says a thing, just keep on digging... Personally, I wish I woulda picked jail. Not to say I haven't enjoyed your guy's company."

Magnet rolled over and put on a goofy grin. He reached out to X-Ray, and said, "aww, I enjoy your company too, X!"

They were so casual about it all, he thought, feeling sick. A shiver worked its way down his spine as he took in everything. . It didn't seem real. How could a place like this exist? How could so many people collectively decide not to ever speak about it? He almost thought X-Ray was messing with him again, testing him, but those holes and that desert went on for miles, and he hadn't seen a single car nor any other sign of life outside the camp his entire time there so far...

"As for the rules: you keep your mouth shut, stay away from the warden, do what your told, and dig your hole, things aren't so bad." He shrugged. "But you start mouthing off, starting fights, stealing...then stuff starts to happen."

"Bad stuff," Zigzag corrected. "So, then there's the tents-"

"Right." X-Ray liked to talk, James noted. It didn't seem to bother Zigzag, being cut off all the time, but it was confusing for him to start talking and then just stop. "We're tent D. I bet Mom already told you what that stands for?"

"Doomed," Magnet muttered. "Got any threes?"

"Damn it! You cheatin' again, Magnet?"

James had to think. Pendanski had said a lot of things. "Diligence?"

"Right. There's tents A, B, C, D, E, and G, but G-tent is counselors only—stay away from there. A-tent thinks they're hot shit, but really they're just a bunch of misfits. Don't worry about them. B and C have pretty average guys. One kid who steals all the time. If there's something you want bad enough, you go to him. If he can't get it, it can't be got...It's E-tent you really gotta watch for. I don't know how, but they rounded up all the crazies in that tent."

Zigzag's eyes grew wide as saucers. "I heard one of them killed a guy."

"If he killed a guy, they wouldn't've sent him to Green Lake, dummy," Squid pointed out.

"Maybe they never proved it. Maybe he got sent here for another reason," Zigzag shrugged.

Squid rolled his eyes. "Please."

"Point is, the guy is whacked in the head. His name's Steve, but he goes by Slasher. Big tall guy, can't miss him."

"I've been here a month!" James exclaimed. "I could've gotten my face pounded in. Thanks for telling me!"

"Had to know we could trust you, first," X-Ray shrugged. "Let's see, what else is there?"

"What about F-tent?" James asked.

"Isn't one."

"Why not?"

"Nobody knows," Zigzag answered, and then looked up.

James followed X-Ray and Zigzag's eyes again and looked over his shoulder.

"I said, 'lizards,'" Magnet repeated. He looked down at his hand of cards as he spoke, but turned so that James could see his face. "Mr. Sir didn't tell you about them? Wow, he must've really not liked you then."

"I think I remember him mentioning something about lizards..."

Armpit shook his head. "Naw, you'd remember if he told you about yellow spotted lizards."

"Never shuts up about them," Squid added.

"What's so special about yellow spotted-?"

"They say one bite'll kill ya," Armpit answered.

A crazy, backwards delinquent camp that did what they pleased, with no contact from the outside, deadly-dangerous rattlesnakes and super-lizards? He couldn't help but look dubious. "But is it true? Are they real?"

"Yeah, they're real. We've all seen 'em."

"Why haven't I seen one then?"

"Don't worry, you will," Armpit said casually. "Hey, Magnet, you got any ones?"

"Go fish."

All of a sudden Armpit lurched forward and gave Magnet a great shove. He toppled off of the bed, taking the thin blanket and most of the sheet with him, but also revealing several cards that had been underneath him. "I knew you was cheating!" Armpit hollered. "I ain't never playin' with you again, you damn cheater."

"Heeey, relax, man," Magnet pleaded. "I only cheat to even the playing field. You're mad pro at this game."

"Well, I am pretty good with numbers," Armpit agreed, smirking. He offered Magnet a hand. "But seriously, you cheat again and I'm gonna break your fingers. All ten of them."

James felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He had gotten so lost in watching the exchange between Magnet and Armpit that he didn't notice Dr. Pendanski enter the tent. He looked directly into Pendanski's crotch, and then, feeling a little horrified, looked up.

"Hello, James." With the stupid hat (it was night, why was he still wearing it?) and the shadow from the lamp, James could hardly make out what he was saying. "You seem to be adjusting well."

James looked up into the face of a man who looked so friendly and caring, and yet his eyes so blank. He wanted to say a lot of things, but glancing at Zigzag could only muster a, "uh, yeah."

"Looks like I chose the right mentor after all." Pendanski congratulated himself.

James wanted to roll his eyes. Zigzag turned out to be a decent guy, but he hadn't done any mentoring at all.

"Well, boys, time for bed. You all get some rest, now, tomorrow's a busy day." It was the same thing every night.

Everyone groaned, including James, who after learning about the camps checkered history suddenly didn't feel very sleepy. He got into his cot and watched Pendanski turn out the light and walk away. Several minutes later, staring into absolute dark, James asked, "Guys? What are we looking for?"

Someone sat up and turned on the lamp. They locked eyes for an instant, and James saw his mouth move—but then the light snapped back out, and someone tore open the flap to the tent, glared inside for several seconds, and then retreated.

He wasn't sure, but he thought Zigzag had said_, "don't know."_


End file.
